


Photosynthesis

by perfumes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Sex, Blatant Disregard of Actual Science, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, im so sorry, let these boys be happy, my first contribution to the fandom is this?, this fic literally has no relation to the title but work with me here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17939093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfumes/pseuds/perfumes
Summary: photosynthesis/ˌfəʊtə(ʊ)ˈsɪnθɪsɪsnounif Andrew is the sun, then Neil will let himself bloom.





	Photosynthesis

It’s 7 am when Andrew wakes.

 

Filtering through the half-opened blinds is warm sunlight, coating the white sheets of the bed in a golden hue. Neil sleeps soundly beside him, his even breaths the only noise in the otherwise quiet morning. 

 

It’s rare when Andrew wakes before Neil. Usually, his idiot would be up and preparing for his morning run and leaving Andrew to fend for himself among the cold sheets. Andrew much prefers this option.

 

Making use of the rare occurrence, he studies Neil. The slice of sunlight turns Neil’s usually auburn curls to a fiery copper. The red of his hair and the honeyed tan of his bare skin is such a stark contrast to the white sheets that Andrew cannot fight his urge to touch him.

 

Andrew trails a light finger along Neil’s shoulder blade, watching as his stupidly long eyelashes flutter prettily on his scarred cheek. He is gorgeous like this, as he is always gorgeous, but there is something beautiful about Neil in the mornings, that mellow softness to him, that softness that rarely exists outside of mid-wakefulness.

 

Andrew lets himself admit that there is some selfish pride in knowing that he is the only one able to see Neil like this, soft and open and receptive, so much different to the cold and tough boy he is with strangers. He traces a finger along Neil’s burn scar, stark and bright in the hazy morning sun, but beautiful because it is part of him, all the same.

 

The idiot in question stirs under his hand, and Andrew’s thoughts quickly leave him as Neil opens his unbearable, too-blue eyes, blinking slowly. Andrew’s breath catches as Neil stretches his lips into a dazzling smile, his eyes crinkling fondly. Stupid, Andrew thinks vaguely, and is unsure whether he means Neil or himself.

 

“Staring,” Neil slurs, his cheek smushed into the pillow, a stubborn curl dangling rebelliously on his forehead. Andrew brushes it away, knowing that it will fall back in place anyway. Neil still has that stupid, dopey smile on his face. Andrew does not stare.

 

“Drew?” he mumbles, voice still slurred with sleep. Neil reaches a blind hand towards him, that Andrew gladly catches and tugs. He places a kiss between Neil’s knuckles; once, twice, and doesn’t miss the way Neil is staring at him.

 

“Now whose staring,” he mumbles, but doesn’t do anything to stop it. Neil is watching him with that reverent look he often gets when he thinks Andrew is not looking, when the only thoughts they have is ones of each other.

 

“Hm,” Neil hums distractedly, and shuffles closer. He is close enough for Andrew to count his eyelashes. “Good morning,” he whispers warmly, blinking dopily at him. His eyes are much too blue, but Andrew can’t bring himself to turn away.

 

“Good morning,” Andrew mumbles back, indulging him. He tugs Neil even closer until there is no space left between them, bare skin sliding deliciously. Neil lets out a breathy sigh and closes his eyes again, as if unable to bear their closeness. Andrew gives in to his desire for once and drags his whole hand along Neil’s side, feeling the softness of his skin and the roughness of his scars, feeling the rise and fall of Neil’s steady breaths; whole and trembling and alive. Neil makes another noise, full of want, and Andrew feels something hot and unsteady ignite deep within him, past the blurred and hazy edges of his morning stupor.

 

“Drew,” Neil mumbles again, wide awake and boneless. He melts under Andrew’s touch, as if he were a dying man in a wasteland, and Andrew was an oasis. He has never fully understood Neil’s receptivity to Andrew’s touch — his eagerness and unflinching trust. But, he thinks, as Neil trembles below him, he supposes it's not that hard to figure out.

 

Andrew rubs Neil’s side again; slowly dragging up and down, until his hand ventures lower and grazes the supple flesh of Neil’s backside. Neil releases a breathy moan beneath him and whispers _yes_  before Andrew can ask.

 

He grasps the plush skin beneath his hand, softly squeezing it as Neil writhes beneath him, dragging his palm over the softness over and over again. He is fully hard by now, and he allows himself to bask in his desire for a heady moment, before he lets it pass, as easy as breathing.

 

“I knew you were only with me for my ass,” Neil mumbles jokingly, amusement and desire coloring his voice. Andrew looks at him and firmly squeezes the handful of ample flesh in his palm. Neil jerks beneath him, a surprised yet pleased moan falling from his lips, and Andrew drinks it up as if it were water. Andrew squeezes again in fascination, lighter this time, and watches Neil’s expression shudder.

 

“You gotta give me something to stick around for,” Andrew jokes into Neil’s hair, and feels the younger boy laugh into his bare chest. Andrew uses the opportunity to give a light smack to Neil’s backside, feeling it bounce under his palm. Neil jerks again and releases another moan, a drawn-out, sinful thing that sparks the fire in Andrew’s core and makes him feel far too awake.

 

“Andrew,” Neil whines, poking his head out from Andrew’s chest, “Kiss me already.” Andrew is not strong enough to deny him, but then again, when does Andrew ever want to deny Neil anything.

 

He finally slots his lips to Neil’s, feeling the red-head beneath him whimper and clutch at his biceps. Andrew knows Neil has a thing for his chest and arms, and Andrew doesn’t waste time denying that he likes it.

 

He drags his lips along Neil’s, the younger’s soft mouth falling open and eager. Neil pants into his mouth before Andrew slants his lips across his again, devouring and heady and hot. The push-and-pull drag of their lips is enough to make Andrew fully hard again, the sounds Neil is making under him igniting the spark inside of him until it is a bushfire; untameable and raw.

 

Andrew slides a hand across Neil’s body, gathering Neil’s small and curved waist in his arms and dragging him hotly against him, their groins pressing together. Andrew groans softly into his mouth, watching as the redhead rubs against him, obscene noises falling from his sweet lips.

 

They grind softly together for a sweet, delicious moment of bliss, before Andrew pulls away and ignores Neil’s glazed-eyed pout. “I want to eat you out,” Andrew says, watching Neil flush in shock and excitement, “yes or no?”

 

Neil licks Andrew’s lips again, drinking him in languidly, before nodding frantically, “yes, Drew, yes.”

 

They rearrange themselves until Neil is on his front, stomach to the bed and hips curved invitingly upwards. Andrew settles behind him, dragging a hand across the tops of Neil’s ass cheeks roughly, before lowering his face to Neil’s hole. At the first experimental lick, Neil lets out a high-pitched keen that shocks both of them.

 

“Still yes?” Andrew asks, watching Neil’s pink hole pucker greedily. Neil nods frantically into the bed, “y-yes. Don’t stop, Drew.” Andrew takes a moment to admire Neil like this: spread out and easy, mellow and falling open from Andrew’s touch, the way he never is for anyone else.

 

Andrew places an open-mouthed kiss to Neil’s hole again, feeling it clench underneath his tongue. “You taste so sweet,” Andrew murmurs, before slowly opening Neil up.

 

The room is suddenly filled with Neil’s high-pitched whimpers as Neil clutches the sheets above him, Andrew’s tongue in his ass making obscene noises. Neil edges his legs open a little wider, feeling Andrew take him deeper, his tongue wet and hot and dizzyingly good.

 

“Fuck!” Neil keens, dropping his forehead to the sheets, Andrew’s tongue slicing deeper into him with the passing minute. Neil’s body feels like its on fire; every nerve ending firing at once and making him melt into a muddled mess. They have only done this a handful of times, but Neil makes it a mission to do it more often.

 

Andrew laps and sucks at his hole as if it were one of those calorie-filled lollipops he likes so much. Leaving open-mouthed kisses on the outer rim and fucking his pink hole with his clever tongue, Neil can’t help but push his ass back into Andrew’s face in an erratic motion, almost riding it. Andrew squeezes Neil’s full cheeks in his hands and separates them, spreading him and devouring him as if he had not eaten in weeks.

 

Andrew withdraws his tongue from his ass suddenly, and Neil moans loudly at the loss of it. He stares hungrily down at Neil, his golden eyes blazing and intense. He suddenly flips Neil over, the redhead’s long legs splayed open either side of him. They kiss messily, Neil’s fingers buried in his hair, Andrew’s hands clutching and squeezing the side of Neil’s thighs, kneading them greedily.

 

Neil breaks away with an obscene noise. “Want you, Drew,” he pants, looking like something out of Andrew’s wildest dreams. Neil rubs himself against Andrew, his head tipping back, baring his slender throat. Andrew’s mouth latches onto it, sucking expertly as Neil writhes, tangled up in their sheet, both of their scents mixing deliriously.

 

They rut against each other a few times, feeling feverish with the sensation, and Neil clutches onto Andrew’s broad and muscled shoulders desperately, feeling his dick harden even further. “I said I—" Neil pants as Andrew works his mouth onto Neil’s puckered nipple, “—I want you. Now.”

 

Andrew pulls away, mouth smudged and pink. He stares at the younger boy for a few long, seconds, his eyes dark and chest falling rapidly, “Say it then, Neil.”

 

Neil feels himself redden. “What?”

 

“I want to hear you say it.”

 

Neil steadies himself on the sheets, feeling almost shameful with his legs splayed far apart, his hard cock lying pink against his stomach. Andrew stares at him silently; the familiar golden of his eyes replaced by the blackness of his blown pupils.

 

Neil looks up at him through his ridiculous eyelashes, his huge blue eyes hooded and sluggish. “Fuck me, Drew.”

 

And Andrew is gone.

 

He covers Neil’s slender bodies with his own, feeling their sweat-slicked skin slide together, as Andrew reaches above Neil to their bedside table. He fumbles around in the drawer for a few seconds, frustration and desire making his hands shake slightly, before finally closing his fingers around the desired objects.

 

Neil watches hungrily as Andrew sits back on his thighs, holding the container of lube in his hand and a condom in the other. Neil reaches out to trail a finger along Andrew’s strong chest and tangle in the short golden hairs there, pleased, before taking the condom out of Andrew’s hand and throwing it to the side.

 

The implication is obvious, and Andrew’s eyes darken even further. “You sure?”

 

Neil nods and sits up on his spread knees, shuffling closer to his partner, their hardened cocks grazing. Andrew barely holds back a groan, and Neil doesn’t even bother to try.

 

Andrew rearranges Neil so that he is sitting half in his lap, his long, taut legs on either side of Andrew. He caresses the firm slenderness of them admiringly, rubbing them the way he knows Neil likes. When Andrew looks up, Neil is watching him, his front teeth sinking into his pretty plush lips, leaning back on his hands.

 

Andrew then coats his fingers in the cool gel, making sure there is plenty on them, before nudging one of his fingers against Neil’s entrance, working more in every few minutes. Andrew watches as Neil barely contains his shudders, before the redhead begins pushing himself further onto his fingers unabashedly, sweet whimpers falling from his lips. Andrew is transfixed, and doesn’t bother to hide it.

 

Andrew knows that he would never be this comfortable with anyone else. Somehow, this idiot before him became the only person whom Andrew trusted enough to let his guard down, for even a second. Andrew didn’t want to think about the three words on his tongue that he has been trying to release for years now: those three truths. The three truths to add to the already known list: _Sunrise, Abram, Death…_

 

_I, Love, You._

 

There are truths. But for now, it is okay to wait. They have time.

 

As if sensing Andrew’s train of thought, Neil’s desire-hazed eyes soften, his lips curling into a soft, admiring smile, before lifting himself to place a soft kiss on Andrew’s lips, slow and meaningful.

 

“I trust you,” Neil whispers against his lips, another truth for a growing list. Andrew wraps his hands around Neil’s small waist in answer, tugging him closer into his chest in an almost-hug. Neil goes with ease.

 

It is rare when Andrew shows this much emotion during sex, but Neil is not complaining. He loves nothing more than when Andrew trusts him enough to let his guard down just a little, let Neil inside the cavernous walls he’s spent so long trying to build. After years of battling, they were finally reaping the hard-earned reward.

 

Nathaniel Wesninski and Andrew Doe were both dead and buried. As their blood met the earth, flowers began to grow in their place.

 

Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard kiss, and it tastes like sunlight.

 

When Andrew finally enters Neil, it is isn’t earth-shattering.

 

Instead, it feels a bit like a key sliding into a lock — a bit like coming home.

 

“Neil,” Andrew whispers, undone, and Neil clenches around him hotly, unraveled.

 

“Andrew,” Neil whispers back and feels like he’s touching the sun. Andrew is basked in golden sun ray’s, the morning sun coating him in gold; as if he were one of those beautiful sculptures in a museum. Except, unlike those sculptures, Andrew wasn’t perfect. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the pools of his collar bones, his pale hair in disarray, his sturdy body patched with scars here and there; the remnants of a fighter’s life; a survivors past.

 

Imperfect as he is, Neil supposed, he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

 

Their thrusts pick up inevitable speed, Andrew driving into Neil with a force that he rarely exerts outside of Exy. Neil moans, loud and unashamed, in time with the symphony of slapping skin and the squeaks of the bed, littered with Andrew’s low groans. Andrew stares at him with blown-eyes, alight with molten gold, and Neil cannot look away, even when he feels the earth break under his feet.

 

When they come undone together, Neil blooms, and feels the seeds scatter to every unknown place on earth, planting bits of themselves with them and growing into enormous buds. As Andrew shudders above him, Neil feels the sunlight leak out of him, feeling the flowers turn their heads towards the light; blooming brighter than ever.

 

_Photosynthesis_ , Neil surmises, as Andrew collapses above him, breathing deeply, sweat making his skin glisten. _That’s how things bloom._

 

They kiss, now tired and spent, with Andrew braced above him, barely any space between their shuddering bodies. The soft drag of their lips is enough for Neil to feel sleepy again, his body sated and warm.

 

Andrew goes to pull out, but Neil, in a moment of panic, clenches hard around his now soft member. Andrew groans, his head falling to Neil’s chest, and bites out a “Neil…”

 

Almost petulantly, Neil wraps his legs around Andrew, clenching tighter and not wanting to let go. Not yet. “Stay, Drew. Just a little longer,” Neil says, his eyes slipping shut. Andrew huffs against his throat, but Neil feels the other man harden inside of him, the stretch familiarly pleasant. Neil smiles and kisses Andrew’s forehead, the other man looking grumpy and tired and aroused — yet annoyed at his own adhering arousal.

 

Inevitably, Andrew gives in, and allows Neil to stay wrapped around him, never mind their sweaty bodies, and lets the sun seep into their skin, the air falling still and quiet around them. Andrew closes his eyes and breathes, his cheek under Neil’s steady, beating heart.

 

Minutes, or what could have been hours, later, Andrew groans in discomfort and makes to withdraw himself from Neil’s body. Unwilling, Neil grumpily lets himself unclench, his leg muscles twinging, and takes a minute to mourn the steady fullness of Andrew inside him.

 

Andrew watches as Neil stares in between his own spread legs, watching in vague sorrow at the white liquid seeping out of Neil’s ass. Andrew stares as Neil takes a slender finger and attempts to push it back inside, but there is simply too much. Neil lets out a soft noise of grief and flops on his back, cum still seeping slickly out of his ass and onto the bed sheets.

 

“A good morning indeed…” he mutters, still staring at the redheaded disaster of his.

 

Unwillingly, Andrew feels himself harden again, and curses, lifting his sticky body off the bed, making for the shower.

 

He stops at the doorway, looking back at Neil’s gloriously naked body still spread out on the bed. “Coming?” he asks tonelessly, and Neil grins dopily at him, sitting up and grimacing.

 

“Yeah, I just did,” the little shit replies, and Andrew rolls his eyes, turning his back on him before Neil can see him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to say pls be nice


End file.
